A:N: Thanks for reading, enjoy. Don't forget to review, I love reviews. ^_^
Chapter Two
Going Hunting
If travel is searching
And home has been found
I'm not stopping
I'm going hunting
I'm the hunter
I'll bring back the goods
But I don't know when
Thought that I could organize freedom
How Scandinavian of me
You sussed it out, didn't you?
You could smell it
So you left me on my own
To complete the mission
Now I'm leaving it all behind
I'm going hunting
I'm the hunter...
You just didn't know me!
You just didn't know me
We all sat in the bar. James sat in between Hayden and me. He knew we were still on outs. We always had been. Hayden thought he knew everything about what happened but he didn't. Shit James and her didn't even know everything that happened. They were told I was kicked out, reality was I was screaming at them and saying I was leaving when they shouted for me to get out.
Kicked out, just left, so many different ways to put what happened.
The bartender named Doc came over to us. "You…you..want some more…more sh..sh…oh fuckin' drinks! Fuck! Ass!"
"Jack please," I raised my glass resting my head on the counter. I was so tired. I had worked the night before and it had been a long one so I had every right to be out of it. "This is where she worked? I thought she was working at the hospital?"
A woman walking behind the bar looked at the boys and me. "Who?"
We looked up at her. She had short red hair and she was just staring at us. I looked up drunkenly and drank the shot the bartender poured. "Who what?"
"Who worked here?" She looked concern.
The police had only found the body a few days ago. If they hadn't come down here though how could they of known that she worked here?
"Tasha, Mary," Hayden told her drinking some of his beer. She covered her mouth shocked at the news. Where the hell was she when they came to investigate? "They found her shot to death in a run down building."
"Didn't the cops come down?" I questioned her, still trying to figure out what was going on with that. It seemed off to me that no one would of told her. She shook her head. "Why not? They said they knew where she worked."
"The cops sometimes come down here," She stated tears forming in her eyes. She began to choke them back. "Dad!" She called and the bartender walked over. "Have the cops been down here about Natasha?"
"Not ta my…knowledge," He looked at my brothers. "Tell…tell her she needs ta get her as..ass..back ta.. work… Fuck! Ass!"
"She's dead you old fuck," I grumped at him shoving my glass forward. "Can I have another please?"
"What?" He looked like he was about to cry to.
"Another shot please?" I repeated at him resting my chin on the bar.
"No!" James grabbed the glass. "You're fucking underage any way!" He looked at the bartender. "Don't you check ID's anymore?"
"Come on James!" I growled at him. "You and Hayden went out drinking enough when you were my age."
"Difference Chloe!" Hayden growled at back at me. He looked at the bartender and the woman they had called Mary. "She isn't twenty-one! Don't give her anything else with alcohol!"
"Fuck you guys!" I hissed at them jumping from my barstool. I wasn't that buzzed. "Enjoy the fucking funeral," I mumbled grabbing my keys. Hayden grabbed my arm and began to pull me back towards the stool. "Let go!"
Everyone was starting to look at us. We had to be a sight for everyone to see. Brother and sister arguing at one another. In the middle of a bar, and me not suppose to be there.
I yanked my arm from him. "What the fuck Chloe?" He shouted at me. "You're getting wasted and you haven't been home in over three years! You could at least come home for the fucking funeral!"
"Oh my god put a sock in it and go fuck yourself!" I shouted at him throwing a beer from a nearby table at his head.
"Chloe!" James screamed at me.
"I'm not going to the fucking funeral!" I told them again before I stormed out of the bar. I couldn't deal with them now. I didn't want to deal with them now. I walked out to my bike, threw my helmet on and rode out of there. They could deal with it how they wanted to. I just wanted to be left alone.
I drove down to the river. At least there I had the option of throwing myself in. I walked to the edge of the water. Well what could be considered the edge, there was a railing in the way so I leaned against it and looked at the water.
She had to die didn't she? Why though? I didn't understand why and I felt my legs give out as I cried. Sobbed into my hands I moved to sit down and bring my knees to my chest. I felt myself tremble as I cried. I sat there; thinking of what someone could of done, of why she was even killed by the mob. How the hell did she piss them off so badly?
So much I didn't understand. So much that I knew I wouldn't. I tilted my head back against the railing. Tears streamed down my cheeks. My eyes remained shut and my hand moved into my jacket to pull out the addresses that Greenly had given me.
I needed answers. If I had to stay longer than I intended to I really didn't mind. I could afford the vacation from work. Unless work came to me. That would be a good thing.
I stood and walked back to my bike. Revving the engine I took off. I love the feeling of the bike as I rode. It made me feel so alive when most things didn't. In my line of work I had so many faces that it drove me nuts. On an upside, I had many families and I was lucky that my line of work wasn't what most people thought it to be.
I found the address relatively quickly, I smiled secretly to myself, I was happy I at least found it. It only took an hour to do. I'm horrible with directions and addresses. Sometimes people like that. I personally don't. It made me late all the time. Not always so late but just late in general. I was tired from what happened earlier at the bar. I hated arguing with them about whether or not I needed to return home. When they said I was underage they weren't kidding.
I was seventeen. The youngest of the family, three years ago shit happened and I left for New York. I stayed with her for a while but not long. Now I'd be staying with her again.
I walked over to the door and let myself in. A portly man sitting behind a desk looked up at me. I looked over at him and smiled at him broadly.
"Hi," I smirked up at him. "I'm looking for an apartment."
He looked me up and down. He nodded speaking in a hard Irish accent. "Yah I got one on the second floor."
"I have my own preference if you don't mind," I smirked. "Lucky number 'seven' favorite word 'fuck'."
He smiled almost giggled. "Seven F. Well that attendant did die recently."
"I heard," I smiled leaning provocatively over the desk. "Why I'm here. I am a little OCD," I smirked over at him. "I have to have a room with a seven in it."
"It's still a little messed up," He smirked. "All her stuff is in there. Extra three hundred for everything in there."
"How much a month?" I smiled pulling out a wad of cash and putting three hundred down. He stared at my hand. Along with the money in my hand. "How much?"
"Two fifty a month.." He told me and I set the money down.
"Can you show me to my new apartment please?" I smiled at him.
"Of course!" He smiled. Grabbing a key. "Here's your key. Brand new door in there. It's funny you're the second girl here not Irish. What are you?"
I smiled walking behind him. "Complicated," I told him. "Anything I should worry about?"
"Nah," He began as we headed up the stairs. "She was pretty tidey. Someone came in and screwed it up. Shot up some Russians in there too."
"Oh my," I pretended to be shocked. "Is there still blood in the apartment?"
"Nah," He told me as we hit the second floor. "A couple guys, I think one was her boyfriend came and cleaned everything up."
"Boyfriend?" I almost seemed concerned when I knew I shouldn't be. He looked at me. "Rebound?"
He smirked at me as we reached the third floor. "I'm on the rebound."
I pointed to his finger. "You're married."
He shrugged. "If I said I'm a widower would you believe me?"
"No," We walked the rest of the way in pretty much silence. We reached the apartment and he opened the door. I recognized a bunch of the stuff from her old apartment in New York. I smiled as I walked over to the counter and picked up a picture of her with a guy while I set down my helmet. He was cute, I didn't know him so he must have been the boyfriend. I looked around the apartment. Whoever the guys were that were cleaning this place up were doing a good job. I couldn't tell it had been trashed.
I looked over at the manager and he handed me the key. "Everything's paid through the month so just pay when the month is up. Welcome to the building."
"Thanks," I said as he turned and left.
I smirked shutting the door behind him. I didn't put the chain on the door though. I locked it but the chain wasn't necessary. If her boyfriend or now ex-boyfriend was working on cleaning her apartment up then I had to make sure he didn't think anything different was going on.
I reached over to the picture again. She looked so happy, and him so familiar. I didn't know him from New York but I'd seen his face somewhere before. I walked over to the couch and laid down. I was tired. I couldn't bring myself to go into her bedroom. Mostly because if she had a boyfriend I didn't really want to go in and find love stains on the sheets.
There was a stack of photos from the past couple weeks she was here. I flipped through them. A bunch of her at work and with her supposed boyfriend. There was a guy with him too most of the time. He was cute too. They all looked happy. Some of the looks he was giving her in the photos were rather inappropriate if his friend was with her. It was almost a look of wanting something he couldn't have.
I spent a good portion of an hour looking at the photos before I dosed off.
I heard keys jingling in the door at around four in the morning. I shifted when I heard the voices of two Irish men come from outside. I reached down into my purse and pulled out a forty cal Desert Eagle handgun. In my line of work I had to know how to fire a gun. Part of what drove her nuts about me. She hated them with a passion last time I remembered.
I slid it under my pillow and pretended to sleep again. I listened quietly, my heart raced, I didn't know them or why they were here, but I would get my answer.
"Damn it Murph," The first voice began walking into the apartment. "Ya left the lights on again?"
"Nah," The second voice told him. "I shut them off. Maybe the manager was up 'ere."
Then there was silence. Shit. My helmet. I left the fucking thing on the counter. I gripped the gun tightly and made a mewling noise. I listened as they walked closer. I could hear the floorboard creaking. I could feel a hand coming on the back of the couch.
"It's a girl," The first voice stated. "It's a bleedin' girl."
I moved a little when I felt one move around to kneel down beside me. "I thought he wasn't leasing it for fuckin' week."
My eyes shut open, my hand shot out grabbed him by the back of the neck and I put the gun to his head. It was the one she was in the photos with.
"Not a morning person?" I heard the one above me ask as I felt a barrel press in the back of my head.
A:N: I leave ya'll hanging, please review. I love reviews so please do ^-^ Encouragement is always welcomed ^-^
